


Just A Job

by cowboykylux



Category: BlacKkKlansman (2018)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Female Jewish Character, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Sad with a Happy Ending, Shameless Smut, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 12:52:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15774486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: Flip Zimmerman never thought much about being Jewish. It isn't until he gets assigned a case to go undercover and infiltrate the KKK that he realizes just how much of himself he has been trying to hide.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I posted this fic in 6 parts on my blog, and was asked to upload it here too, so here we are!   
> Before we dive into this story, I want to disclose that there ARE SPOILERS for BlackkKlansman in this fic!! 
> 
> This is a very angst heavy fic, surrounding topics of racism and antisemitism, although explicit language or slurs are never used, only alluded to. 
> 
> As a Jewish woman, I loved this film and thought it was incredibly powerful, and I wanted to write something that I felt addressed some of Flip's internal struggle. I hope you enjoy!

“I have a new assignment.” Flip murmured into your neck, on the first morning he would have to go undercover.

The two of you were laying in bed, white sheets tangled around your naked and sex sweaty bodies as birds chirped outside your bedroom window. You knew Flip worked odd hours, but things had been relatively routine for the past few weeks, and you had been enjoying the stability of falling asleep and waking up together. But it sounded like that was about to change.

You and Flip had been married for almost five years, and you had known him for five years prior to that. Growing up you knew he wanted to be a cop more than anything, and you never once complained about all the downsides that came with the profession. You knew how hard it was for him to go face danger every day, all sorts of danger, but you also knew that he was a good cop, who wanted to keep his town safe.

“Oh?” You asked, eyebrow raised. The Colorado Springs Police sent Flip on a variety of different cases, some more involved than others, and while you were always proud of the work he did, you wanted to know just  _what_  he was getting himself into. “Is it a big one?”

Flip’s sigh really was all the answer you needed, but he shrugged and moved about on the bed, situating himself so he could press his nose underneath your left breast. Your hands automatically went to his hair, softly carding them through the dark locks that were slightly knotted with sleep.

You weren’t awake enough to protest when he lifted his head and sucked your nipple into his mouth, not that you really wanted him to stop, you were just still a bit sensitive still from Flip’s morning wake-up call that he liked to give you every day.

He never could get enough of your body, the way you arched for him and moaned his name, but he knew there was something different about this time; depending on how his case goes, it might be one of the last times he ever gets to fuck you awake, so he took great care to make you come as many times as he could in an hour.

It’s not that he was concerned about these hicks that lived on the outskirts of town, it was that he was afraid you’d proverbially kill him if you ever found out what the case entailed. Killed him, or worse, left him. He wasn’t scared of a bunch of people playing dress-up in the woods. No, what he was afraid of was you thinking he really held the values that those people did. He knew you believed in him, and that you loved him more than life itself, but he also knew how you felt about those hate groups, and he didn’t want you knowing he would have to join one for this case.

His goatee was raspy against your skin, but you didn’t mind. It was one of the many things about Flip that you had come to love – that, along with his collection of plaid flannels. He claimed that they never went out of style, and while you loved your lumberjack dearly, you often wondered what the hell he would do if he ever had to go to a fancy dinner party, or meet someone important.

He released your nipple and kissed your sternum, taking in a deep breath like he was savoring the way you smelled.

“I don’t know. It  _might_  be nothing, but it might be something.” He said with a groan before pulling away, sitting up with his back to you, rolling his shoulders. Man how you loved to look at him, his strong back, peppered with small beauty marks and lightly dusted with hair that caught the morning sunlight.

You sat up and shuffled behind him, the sheet falling away from your body as you did so. You rested your cheek on his shoulder, and wrapped your arms around his thick torso, letting your hands rub teasing circles onto his abs.

“Can you tell me about it?” You asked trying to be seductive, pressing your chest to his back so he could feel your nipples hardening against his shoulder blades. He was really obsessed with them, and you knew that if there were any tactic into getting what you wanted, it would be to tease him.

“Honey…” Flip warned with a tone that held no real malice.

“Not even a little?” You asked playfully, kissing his up his shoulder to his neck.

“No, honey. I’m sorry.” Flip said, raising one of his hands to lovingly cup your cheek. His hands were huge and warm, but you knew that you weren’t going to get any information out of him.

Giving a playfully dramatic sigh, you flopped down next to him, your head nearly hanging off the bed as you looked at him. Even at this odd angle, you could tell that this case was going to either be dangerous, or emotionally draining, or both.

Flip looked down at you and with the way your hair caught in the sunlight, he was pretty damn sure you were an angel. He gave a silent plea to the universe as he brushed his thumb across your lips, asking whatever powers that be to keep you protected above all else.

“Be safe.” You said like you did every morning.

“Always am.” He said back, like he did every morning.

“Love you.” You puckered your lips for a kiss, and Flip leaned down to meet them, kissing you three times like always, but then going back down for one more.

“Love you more.”

He didn’t know how to tell you about the case without you completely freaking out, so he decided to keep it to himself. He resolved to stick with the confidentiality agreement he signed and went to shower with the case kept locked in his mind. 

You were fast asleep by the time he was finished, and he dressed as silently as he could, his eyes lingering on you for a long while before he left.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a long fucking day. From what Flip observed at the bar, it was obvious these guys talked a big game, but he wasn’t entirely sure they had the capability to act out on their disgusting wild fantasies. Pulling into his own driveway on 21st street, he shut the car off and sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.

He checked his watch – it was nearly one o’clock in the morning, and he cursed under his breath. You always waited for him every night to come home. He had told you time and time again to get the sleep you needed, but you never listened. You knew he was capable of taking care of himself, but at the end of every day you found yourself lying awake in bed, unable to sleep until you made sure he was home, and in your arms, and safe.

It was dark, and Flip carefully turned the lock to the front door so the noise of it wouldn’t disturb you up when he came home. He had been out at the dingiest bar he had ever stepped foot in, trying to befriend a group of people who spent the entire time talking about how terrible black people and Jewish people were, and his mind was still reeling from the sickening ease with which they spoke. All he really wanted at this point, was to rummage through the liquor cabinet, pour himself a stiff drink, and fall asleep next to his beautiful wife.

“You’re home late.” You said, appearing out of nowhere in the darkness.

Flip startled for just a moment, before he turned on one of the soft lamps in the living room. In the warm yellow light he saw you wrapped up in one of his plaid flannels, the green and black one you liked so much, and not much else. As predicted you didn’t look like you had been sleeping – your hair was still brushed and looking nice, but even in the low light he could see the bags under your eyes.

Flip followed you into the kitchen, one of the most used areas in your cozy home together. You two spent a lot of time there, whether it was sitting at the little kitchen table eating breakfast, or going over case files that you definitely shouldn’t be looking at (but neither of you were going to tell the chief). Flip often went straight to the kitchen after work, because on your quest to write the best dessert cookbook ever, you were constantly trying out new pies, cakes, and cookies that always turned out well.

Tonight was no different, and he gave a tired smile at the pile of delicious looking chocolate rugelach sitting on a decorative cake stand covered by a glass dome. He pilfered one from underneath the dome, and kissed your cheek before shoving it in his mouth.

“Yeah, I was out doing undercover work.” Flip said with his mouth full, grateful that you didn’t sound or look too angry, just observant.

“Ah yes, with officer Ron Stallworth.” You said, hopping up on the kitchen counter while Flip found himself a whiskey glass. His hand stilled as he was about to close the cabinet.  

“How did you know that?” He asked with a bit too much bite, paranoid that someone had leaked information.

You grinned mischievously despite his tone, and immediately Flip knew he had nothing to worry about. He relaxed with a chuckle. At the best of times, you were a detective in your own right, but when you  _really_ wanted something, Flip swore you were like an FBI agent.

He poured himself some of the cheap whiskey since he mostly wanted to drink to forget about all the shit that went down earlier, but then settled himself right in between your legs. He took a swig of the drink, and you kissed a droplet off of his lips with a pleased hum.

“I met him today, you forgot your lunch at home and I went to the station to drop it off for you, but you weren’t there.” You said innocently, walking two fingers up his chest, as if you didn’t always show up at the office to try and wrangle intel out of anyone who’d look your way. “I’d never seen him around the station, so I introduced myself and got some information out of him.” You continued with a glint in your eye.

“Sneaky.” Flip said, before leaning in and stealing deep kisses that left you flustered. “What did he tell you?” He asked, kissing the corner of your mouth, his facial hair tickling your chin.

“Not to worry, nothing important.” You said, sliding down from the counter and taking his hand. You dropped all playfulness and looked him in the eye, “Just that you two were infiltrating a nasty group of people that could do us harm. I’m proud of you.” You wanted him to know that, but he was never very good at taking compliments or praise like that, so you didn’t think anything of it when Flip didn’t respond.

You gave his hand a squeeze, and padded across the house to your bedroom, knowing Flip would follow once he finished his drink and brushed his teeth. You were both too tired for any fun tonight, but it was always a great comfort to snuggle up to his incredibly sturdy frame, your ear right over his heart so you could hear it beating.

Your words were bittersweet for Flip, who stared down into his glass, swirling the liquid around with little care. The things those men said, and the things  _he_ had said, burned in the back of his throat. 

The slurs that he had to so easily slide into conversation, like they had no weight to them at all, left him exhausted. He wanted to gargle mouthwash for an hour, or scrub his tongue with soap, but he knew it wouldn’t help. He couldn’t have you be proud of him, knowing the things he had said, the things he would have to keep saying so these creeps wouldn’t find him out.

“You won’t be proud.” He said in the direction of you, too softly for you to hear it. “When you find out what I’m doing.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Flip?” Ron called when Flip finally emerged from the records room a few days later. “(Y/N)’s looking for you.”

“(Y/N)’s here again?” Flip asked, a quiet smile already on his lips. “I thought she came in yesterday to bother you.” He teased.

“(Y/N) is never a bother, Detective, you know that.” The chief said as he passed them making his way to the lobby.

Flip and Ron frowned as they looked at one another, the chief never went to the lobby unless it was lunch time, but it was too late in the day for that. Thinking about it, it was usually too late in the day for your visits too. Typically you did the grocery shopping on Mondays, because the super market had all new sales and you liked to stock up on ingredients for the week.

Your visits to the station were frequent enough that you were well known. You always brought in food or coffee for the officers when you stopped by, so you were popular enough, and on more than one occasion you had helped calm down angry people trying to file police reports. Two or three days a week Flip could anticipate you sitting in his chair in the detective division, waiting with a bright smile, talking to one of his coworkers and friends, who had over the years become your friends too.

So seeing you standing in the middle of the lobby clutching your favorite cashmere sweater – that Flip noticed was strangely dirty – surrounded by officers as they tried to console your shaking and crying form, was like ice cold water being dumped down the back of Flip’s flannel.

“What the fuck happened?” Flip unceremoniously shouted, silencing the entire lobby. “Get the fuck out of my way.” He pushed his way past the officers who were trying and failing to calm you down, and wrapped his arms comfortingly around you, one around your shoulders and one holding your hand, and led you back through to his department. He was followed by Ron, and and Sargent Trapp, who were both looking very concerned.

“Are you okay? Honey, talk to me.” Flip said, once he closed the door, his heart beating in his throat.

You immediately burst into tears and he pulled you close, enveloping you into a tight hug as sobs wracked through your body. He ran a hand through your hair, frowning in confusion as it had pieces of gravel in it.

“I-I don’t know who did it,” Was all he could make out from your muffled crying. He continued to stroke your hair, and his vision went red when he saw that you were minorly bleeding from your temple. “One second I was paying, I was paying for groceries – I was going to make those potatoes that you like – and the next I was on the floor in the parking lot.” You said, trying to breathe through your words so you wouldn’t stutter and become hysterical.

You always tended to ramble when you were trying to calm down, and it made Flip’s stomach drop. He could see the beginning of a bruise on your wrist where someone must have grabbed you, and his blood boiled –  _no one_ was allowed to fucking touch you like that, and he would make the people who did this  _pay_.

“She was targeted.” Ron said, and Flip sighed. That would explain why your favorite sweater looked like someone threw it into the mud, those scumbags who cornered you probably did.

You pulled back enough to wipe your eyes and nose with the back of your hand, trying to breathe through stuttered inhales when the overhead light of the office glinted on the only piece of jewelry you ever wore aside from your wedding ring.

“You’re wearing your necklace.” He murmured, lifting the silver star of David that lived around your neck with a gentle finger.

“Of course I am, I never leave the house without it.” You sniffled, still rubbing your hand over your face to get your tears under control. “You gave it to me.” You gave a weak smile.

It was your favorite gift you had ever gotten, you had worn a plain gold one long before you and Flip ever met, but now that was tucked away in a special jewelry box. You loved the way this one shone in the sunlight, the sterling silver always kept polished and bright. The only times you took it off were to shower and sleep, and you had a special ceramic plate that sat on your night table that you placed it carefully in every evening.

You were one tough woman, and it was something Flip had always respected about you – hell it was one of the things that drew his attraction to you a decade ago. You were tough, and you were stubborn, and you never backed down; and that was going to get you into trouble. It already had. Ron and Trapp looked at one another with concern, but Flip was the first to voice their opinion.

“Baby, the people who hurt you did so because of this necklace.” He said quietly, unable to meet your tear-filled gaze. “And if you keep wearing it, more people might hurt you.”

“Well they’re not going to scare me into taking it off.” You snapped, angry at the insinuation. “Can we just go home? I wanted to file a report before I showered, in case of any evidence, but  _fuck_  I really want to shower.” You sounded – and looked – miserable, and Flip’s heart broke for it.

Flip nodded, and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and Flip started towards the door to follow you when Ron stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Still just a job to you?” He asked, quiet enough that you wouldn’t hear.

Flip didn’t respond, instead turning his attention towards getting the two of you home.

 

The two of you stood in the shower, watching the blood and dirt wash down the drain. You had refused going to a hospital, you knew it would only take hours and hours for them to tell you everything was going to be fine, and you were too impatient for that.

Flip leaned back against the tile and gently washed your hair, as you tended to the small cut on your temple. You always had a small mirror in the shower to make sure you didn’t have any makeup still left on your face – you hated that you had to use it for something as upsetting as tending to a wound.

“Which grocery store did you go to today?” Flip asked, knowing that there were a few different places you liked to visit. He wanted desperately to make you feel calm and safe, but he was also genuinely curious about your day. One of his favorite parts about coming home to you was hearing all about the happenings of the neighborhood, and he didn’t want to let this assault make things feel different now – even though things were.

“Just the A&P. I think they’re closing down soon.” You said softly, dabbing a wash cloth to your temple. The water kept running pink, and it was making Flip anxious.

“What makes you say that?” He asked, lightly scrubbing the shampoo at your scalp to make you purr like a cat.

“There were people talking.” You said as you turned around to let the water rinse the shampoo from your hair. With all Flip’s tending, it had foamed up and made a big bubbly crown on your head that had the two of you smiling. “I think I heard the manager say to one of the bag boys that they would only be in business until the end of the month.”

“Did the manager come help you when those fucking men knocked you to the damn ground?” Flip grumbled, reaching behind you for the fancy conditioner that you liked to use. It always made you smell so good, like citrus.

“No.” You said with a sigh as you turned back around to let Flip continue his work.

“Did anyone help you?” He asked, his eyebrows knitting into a deep frown.

“A mother did; a kind mother that had two small children. Remind me to give them a pie.” You nodded, once again turning to face your husband while the conditioner soaked into the ends of your hair.  

“Tell me about them.” Flip said softly, pulling you to him out of the direct spray from the shower head.

“Well they were Jewish – from New York! You could tell by their accents. She had two sons, who both wore their kippahs, they were really sweet. She didn’t even need to ask them to help me, they just ran forward and started collecting my groceries that had fallen.” You smiled, always surprised by the kindness of strangers.

“What happened then?” He asked, wanting to send them the biggest fucking gift basket he could find. How dare no one else stop to help you? How was it that only one person out of an entire grocery store notice a woman getting assaulted just outside the doors?

“The mother helped me up while the boys were chasing the apples I bought – oh I hope they aren’t bruised.” You randomly frowned, thinking about your apples. Flip couldn’t help but smile, he was glad to see you were mostly back to normal. He never wanted to see you in the state that you were again. “They walked me to my car and I drove straight to the station. You’d be proud of me, I waited until I got to the lobby to cry. I wanted to be brave for those young boys, for whatever reason.” You said.

Flip knew the reason, it was because you didn’t want them to see the hurt that people can cause. You never wanted a child growing up scared to be who they were, you had told him so many years ago. He hummed and turned you around again to wash the conditioner out of your hair, before turning the water off.

He stepped out first, and dried off before tying a towel around his waist, and then he held up a big fluffy towel for you to dry off with before handing you an even fluffier robe. He never really understood how women wrapped towels around their hair into tall hats the way that they did, and even after five years of watching you do it every day, he still wasn’t quite sure how it worked.

The two of you got changed into pajamas even though it was the middle of the day still. Flip wanted to spend the rest of the day with you, fuck the station and fuck the case. He pulled open the curtains so the bedroom could be filled with warm afternoon sunlight, and you cozied up underneath the covers, towel and robe switched out for one of Flip’s flannels and nothing else. He never got used to the look of you in his clothes – they were just so  _big_ on you, and those were usually the ones that Flip had outgrown!

“Knowing you I bet you got all their names and their address.” Flip said, standing by the bed.

“Of course I did, they rescued me.” You said with a smile. Flip looked at you with sad eyes, your forehead had a small band-aid on it and your wrist was still bruised. You caught his gaze and held a hand out for him to take.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to rescue you.” He sighed, taking your hand in between two of his and laying on the bed next to you. He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed each knuckle, then the back of your hand, and the palm. By the time he was done, you were giggling and trying to get out of his grip.

“Don’t be silly, how could you have known?” You said. You knew it would have been impossible for Flip to do anything, those men had vanished just as quickly as they appeared. “Besides, I’m alright. Just a little banged up is all, but look! My forehead stopped bleeding.” You said, pointing to the band-aid.

“Your forehead never should have bled in the first place.” Flip growled, his eyes shutting closed tightly, the image of you crying in his office burned behind his eyelids. “I’ll get your sweater cleaned – and fuck I’ll get you a new one in every color. I’m so sorry.” He said, getting choked up himself.

“Look…” You said softly, taking his face in your hands. “I know you don’t want me to wear it. But you wear it every day, and you get into worse situations then I do. I won’t let them force me into hiding.” You said, as determined and stubborn as ever.

“It wouldn’t be hiding, just – ” Flip said, the guilt stinging his chest. He had been taking his necklace off to go undercover, to be with the Klan. Of all the fucking people, he had to be chummy with the Klan, the very people who probably did this to you.

“Just what? Me being quiet? Me pretending I’m something I’m not? I can’t do that Flip, you know that.” You shook your head. “I won’t give these people what they want. I won’t let their hate win.”

Flip looked at you for a long time, studying your face, the set expression of your eyes. You were more brave than he was, than his whole fucking patrol squad was. He had no idea how to say it, how to tell you he was so in awe of you and your strength, so he kissed you instead.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” He whispered against your lips.

“Damn straight I’m right.” You huffed out a laugh, “Now keep kissing me, and then we can make those potatoes.” You grinned, not wanting to talk about the entire ordeal anymore.

Flip obliged, willing to give you anything in that moment, just so you would know that he was doing this for a greater reason – he was doing this for  _you._


	4. Chapter 4

Flip got into his car panting and bloody. He cursed the fucking world as he peeled away from the house he had shown up to; trying to drive, light a cigarette, and tend to his bleeding fist all at the same time. He tried to focus on directions instead of his oozing, pulsing hand.

He had subtly brought up your assault to the members of the local Klan chapter that he had been hanging out with, at the bar one evening weeks after the incident, and they all spoke with such reverence for the guys who did it. He learned that there had been three of them, but that two were already in jail for unrelated crimes – leaving only the leader of that trio left.

_“Wait so it wasn’t any of you?” Flip said, genuinely surprised. “Fuck, I would have thought for sure y’all were the ones who did it. Now I don’t know who to thank!”_

_The words burned his throat, but he fought his own feelings to keep a carefree smile on his face, and he had laughed along with them._

_“No, it wasn’t any of us, we were getting ready for the cross burning.” Walter said, putting more chalk on his pool cue. He motioned for Flip to lean in close, and he did so while doing everything in his power not to knock the fucking teeth out of this guy. “I don’t know the guy personally, but a fella named Mason Wright was the one to organize it.” He winked._

_“Huh, I’ll have to go buy him a drink.” Flip winked back, leaning away._

It didn’t take long to find Wright. Flip and a couple officers had found him in the records, already having been arrested on numerous accounts of assault, vandalism, and petty theft.

Flip and a couple of his most trusted officers found themselves standing in front of Wright’s door at five o’clock the next day. They had a whole story prepared if this scumbag started questioning him; someone called in to leave an anonymous tip that Mason Wright was the one attacking lone women on the streets. Wright didn’t need to know that the anonymous stranger was Flip.

_“What the fuck do you want?” A greasy looking balding man shouted from behind his screen door._

_“Are you Mason Wright?” Flip asked, flanked by officers. He was sure they were a pretty fucking intimidating sight, but that’s just what Flip wanted. He was going to scare the shit out of this guy, and then he was going to fucking beat the shit out of him._

_“Fuck you, I might be.” The man spit – literally spit – on the floor._

_“Well are you, or aren’t you?” One of the officers next to Flip spoke up, clearly disgusted by the man._

_“Yeah that’s me, so what?” Wright admitted, and Flip’s jaw clenched. **This**  was the lowlife that had put his hands on you?_

_“Why don’t you come outside.” Flip said, voice dangerously low._

_“Oh I don’t think so, you can come in or you can leave, but I won’t have pigs on my front lawn.” Wright said, spitting again, before stumbling away from the screen door and back into the house._

_“Alright, we’ll come in then.” Flip said, squaring his shoulders._

The minute he had stepped through that threshold, there was gunfire. In hindsight, Flip really should have seen that one coming, but thankfully his reflexes were better than his attention, and he had his gun out in a second.

_The two officers he brought with him were already shooting at Wright, successfully managing to knock the gun out of his hand by putting a bullet through it._

_While Wright screamed and writhed on the floor, Flip holstered his gun and stepped across the room. He crouched down to Wright’s level, and with one hand he grabbed the front of Wright’s grimy white tank top, hoisting him up partially._

_He almost wanted to say something, but then the image of you crying in his arms flashed across his eyes, and he went into a frenzy. He didn’t know how many times he punched that vile man, but it was enough times to knock him unconscious and have blood spraying all over the damned place._

_His friends had let him do it, they didn’t even bother holding him back. When he was good and done – and Wright’s face was almost unrecognizable – he staggered back, blood dripping from his own hand where the knuckles had split._

_“Get him to the hospital. When he wakes up, read him his rights and throw him the fuck in jail for resisting arrest and opening fire on officers.” Flip ordered, too keyed up to care about politeness. “I’m going home to my wife.”_

_“Hey don’t you think you should get your hand looked at?” One of the officers said while the other tried picking up Wright’s limp body._

_“I **said** , I’m going home to my fucking wife!” Flip had shouted, storming over to his car._

And that’s how he found himself speeding home to you in the middle of rush hour traffic. 

* * *

You were thrilled to hear his car pull into the driveway, springing up from the couch where you had been watching this new show called  _All In The Family_  on your small console TV. It had been so long since Flip came home early, you hoped maybe tonight could be the night that you two locked yourselves in the bedroom and didn’t come out until dawn.

“Flip!” You said brightly, swinging the front door open. Your smile faltered when Flip didn’t lean down for his welcome home kiss like he always did, and that’s when you noticed why he was so reluctant to come inside: he was dripping blood onto the front doorstep. “Holy shit!”

“Hey honey.” He said, coming down from his adrenaline high.

You covered your mouth with your hand so you wouldn’t throw up at the sight of him hurt, and pulled Flip straight through to the bathroom. Your focus was zeroed in on getting the first-aid kit out, practiced hands cleaning Flip’s knuckles. It wasn’t the first time he had come home like this, but it still didn’t make you any less okay with the situation.

You both remained silent while you made sure his knuckles weren’t so badly cut up that he would need stitches, and you finally shook your head at Flip with a bit of a chuckle.

“Who was the unlucky guy?” You asked as you wrapped him up with fresh bandages.

“Mason Wright.” Flip replied, “The guy that hurt you.” He clarified.

You set down the rest of the bandages, and practically jumped into his arms. He tightened his grip around you, squeezing you tightly to his chest, where you reached up to pepper kisses along the pit of his throat since it was the only place you could reach.

“My hero.” You grinned, nuzzling his chest. Flip always took care of you, and truthfully, you couldn’t even be mad at him for getting injured.

“He won’t be waking up for a long time,” Flip kissed the tip of your nose. “And when he does, we’ll throw his ass in jail and you’ll never have to see him again.” He promised.

You led him out of the bathroom and towards your bed, where you laid down on the freshly washed sheets. Flip crawled up the bed, kissing all the skin he could reach on his way up to your lips.

“I’ve missed you.” You whispered, separating yourself for a moment to admire how handsome he was. “Are you hungry? It’s dinnertime and I made a roast.”

Flip’s stomach growled loudly before he could even respond, and the two of you laughed at the timing.

“Hmm, what’s say you and I eat dinner really fast, and we can burn off some of those calories after?” Flip said, sending your stomach into butterflies.

“Mr. Zimmerman, I like the way you think.” You giggled, before being swallowed by his kisses.

It was a solid couple hours before the two of you emerged from the bedroom, growling stomachs be damned.

* * *

“How did you even know who he was?” You asked, finishing up the rest of your soup a little later.

“Huh?” Flip asked, still slightly dazed from his orgasm.

“How’d you know it was Mason?” You laughed, so in love with the blissed out look on his face.

“Oh uh, some guys told me.” Flip shrugged, bringing his bowl to his lips and slurping straight from there.

“’ _Some guys?_ ’” You asked with a raised eyebrow, mocking him in a playful manner.

You were sitting at the kitchen table with Flip, eating some homemade matzo ball soup while the roast warmed up again in the oven. Flip had fucked you so well that for a while, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to walk to the kitchen, so he had carried you like the muscular beast that he was, and had served you up some soup at the table.

“Yeah down over at the Purple Lily.” He said – immediately kicking himself.

You took his now empty soup bowl and your own over to the sink, freezing with your back to him.

“The Purple Lily?” You went still,  _why did that name sound familiar?_ You thought to yourself.

“Yeah.” Flip winced, throat going dry.  _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!_ He had just blown his confidentiality with one slip of his tongue.

Why did that name sound so familiar? You could have sworn you had heard someone talking about that place before…was it Judith who had warned you to stay away from that place? Yes! It was! And she had said so because she was told it was swarming with members of…

“The Klan.” You finished your thought out loud, as you set your bowls down in the sink with a hard  _clunk_. “It’s the Klan. Isn’t it.”

It wasn’t a question.

Flip remained silent, and when you turned to face away from the sink to look at him, his head was bowed in shame. You waited, and the two of you existed in a strange limbo in the kitchen, where the lightbulb flickered overhead and the crickets outside were the only thing alive in the whole world.

“Yes.” Flip finally sighed, lifting his head to look at you. You weren’t angry – well okay a huge part of you was angry – you were  _scared_ , and he looked scared too. That scared you more than anything.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked through gritted teeth,  _trying_  your best not to sound accusatory.

“I couldn’t risk them hurting you.” Flip said, realizing how stupid that sounded when he could still see the shadows of the bruises on your wrist from when you  _did_ get hurt.

You took a deep breath and braced yourself against the counter, shutting your eyes so you could focus on articulating your point.

“Flip…these guys…they could kill you, you know that right? They kill people like us.” You said quietly, afraid that they might somehow, somewhere, be listening. Flip wanted to assure you they weren’t, but he wasn’t sure of anything right now, not with the way Felix keeps eyeing him.

“I’m  _pretending_  to be one of them to try and  _stop_  them.” He said as calmly as he could, even though he was starting to shake with fear of your fury.

“Yeah you’re pretending alright.” Your voice barely above a whisper, stinging him as if he’d been hit. Your gaze flicked to Flip’s throat, and he felt like he had had the wind knocked out of him, somehow you knew he hadn’t been wearing his necklace,  _somehow_  you knew he was lying to those people and it killed him.

“Baby they don’t know about me, and they won’t find out about you!” He said, trying to sound convincing. It had the opposite effect, and your hands turned white with the force of your grip on the counter as you did your best to keep in your tears.

“What if they did?!” You shouted, starting to get overwhelmed. “Huh?? What if they  _did_  find out about you, and they killed you, and I wouldn’t even know because I don’t know where the  _fuck_  you’ve been going because you don’t tell me anything about this  _fucking_  case – !” You were cut off by Flip’s tight hug, his hands petting your hair and rubbing your back to soothe you.

“Breathe, breathe. I’m here.” He said, and it was like someone was twisting a knife into his chest. “I’m sorry, it’s just the job I was assigned.” He tried to downplay it, but you were seeing straight through that.

“Bullshit! Whether or not you think it’s just a job isn’t the point,  _they_  won’t be forgiving.” You said, stepping back to look at your husband with a deep frown. “You don’t have to do everything alone, you know. I’m here.”

And you were, you always were. You never shied away from helping him with a case, and you weren’t going to start now. If this is the job he was given, if  _this_ is the case that he took, then you would support him. As much as you wanted to be angry with him – and you really really wanted to be angry with him – the look of sheer terror on his face softened you greatly.

“Yes, you’re here, and I fucked up by not telling you but please – I’m begging you – please don’t kill me for this.” Your husband fell down to his knees and pressed his face into your stomach.

“Flip… I swear to all that is good and right in this world that if they hurt a single hair on your head, I’m going to personally beat the shit out of every one of them myself.” You promised, and from Flip’s spot on the floor, you had never looked more serious in your life. Which, in any other circumstance would have probably made Flip laugh and throw you over your shoulder because really, you were not the fighting type at all, but in that moment he believed every word you said.

Flip stood again once he was sure you weren’t going to storm out of the house and drive away to a friend’s place. After a few moments of you holding on to one another, you separated only enough so that you could serve up the damn roast. Flip thought it looked like something magnificent out of a magazine, and he said as much. The two of you sat close to one another on the couch as you ate, not willing to be all the way across the table.

You forced the conversation towards lighter subject matter to try and get through the dinner, but Flip couldn’t stop repeating those words in his brain. You were right, Ron was right, everyone was fucking right; it wasn’t just a job anymore.

He didn’t know what the fuck it was, or what he got himself into, but he knew this was bigger than just a case. He kissed your face, and listened to your stories, and ate the roast, all the while thinking about how he would take these assholes down.


	5. Chapter 5

You loved the daytime. Flip always considered himself a night owl, it was a reason being an undercover cop worked so well for him. That man could sleep through the entire day if you didn’t come in to wake him up, and on some Saturday mornings, when he had had a particularly rough night on the job, you would let him sleep peacefully, cozying up next to him in bed with a book from the library or a pad and paper for new recipe ideas.

Flip might be able to sleep for absolute ages, but you couldn’t. Being your own boss and working from home gave you the opportunity to schedule your own hours, and with all the bullshit that had gone down between that day at the grocery store and Flip telling you about the case details, you really just wanted a nice time in the park – so that’s exactly what had been on the agenda for the day.

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and everything was calm in your slice of Colorado Springs. You checked your watch, it was only two o’clock in the afternoon, but you had been at the park for nearly three hours and were starting to get a bit peckish.

Folding the blanket you had brought, you closed your eyes and soaked up the sun. Today was going to be a good one to throw open the windows, that was for sure, you thought as you double checked to make sure you had all your belongings. You never brought much to the park, just a book to read, a blanket to sit on, and a snack or two. Your stomach grumbled again and you laughed at yourself – the snacks had been finished  _long_  ago.

You took your time walking down the couple streets it took to get home, and stopped in your tracks when you saw two cars parked in the driveway.

“Flip’s home?” You wondered aloud, fighting the nervous impulse to run into the house. The last time he had come home early he had busted his hand open – Flip had finally gotten the blood to come off the front step and you really didn’t want him to have to clean it again.

“Honey, I’m home!” You entered the house in a sing-song manner like they do in those old ‘50s shows that sometimes come on.

“(Y/N)! I was wondering where you were.” Flip rounded the corner from the dining room with a huge smile on his face. You let out a little breath of relief when he took a few quick strides over to you and picked you up in his strong arms. He kissed the top of your head as he set you down, your arms still filled with your things.

“Had I known you’d be back early I would have left a note.” You chuckled, bumping your hip against his playfully as you passed him to go put your things down on the kitchen table.

There was a small bowl filled with beautiful fresh cut flowers, bright white daisies and soft green leaves practically spilling out of it sitting right on the table.

“Surprise.” Flip came behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and kissing your cheek three times in a row.

You turned in his arms and kissed him properly now that you weren’t carrying a big picnic basket, humming happily against his lips.

“Want some lunch? I was thinking about making shakshuka since the tomatoes are ripe.” You waggled an eyebrow, and he closed his eyes in bliss.

“It’s like you’re a mind reader.” He said with a grin, reluctantly letting you go with one more kiss. You started pulling ingredients from the various cabinets and from the fridge, and he stood more or less awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen for a moment before asking, “Can I help with anything?”

“If you chopped up the onion and tomatoes I certainly wouldn’t complain.” You winked, nodding your head in the direction of the cutting board that was tucked away next to the fridge.

“Right away Mrs. Zimmerman.” Flip saluted, making you laugh. He passed by the table to go wash his hands in the sink when he noticed the book you had placed there. “New book?”

“Yes! It’s called  _Carrie_ , by this guy Stephen King.” You replied, knocking things over accidentally as you looked for the spices you needed.

“Any good?” He asked, and you whirled around with excitement and with arms full of small cannisters. Flip thought you were the most beautiful person in the world every day, but with the way your face lit up with happiness, damn you were breathtaking.

“Yes! It’s amazing, but way scarier than I thought it was going to be. I hope other people like it, because I really think this guy has the potential to be a household name.” You said confidently. You had never heard of this Stephen King guy before, but you desperately wanted to read another one of his works.

“Maybe I’ll give it a peek one of these days.” Flip smiled, happy that you were enjoying the book even if he would never have the time to read it himself. He knew you’d just tell him the plot anyway, all excited the way that you get whenever you’re really hooked on a new plot.

“Do you think I’ll be a household name someday?” You asked, voice gone soft with insecurity.

Flip abandoned the tomatoes that he had been chopping and turned to you, tipping your chin up to look him in the eye.

“Without a doubt.” He said earnestly.

Your moment of uncertainty gone, you picked up the cutting board with practiced ease, and dropped the tomatoes into the skillet, sending the pleasant sound of sizzling lunch and the savory aroma of spice throughout the house.

* * *

It was hours later, and Flip couldn’t stop staring at his own reflection in the mirror. He had drawn up a bath for the two of you – somehow you both managed to fit even with him being so big, and you had your back snuggled against his chest.

After lunch, the two of you lounged in your sunny living room, and Flip had painted your toenails a pretty burgundy color that was ‘all the rage’ according to the woman at the makeup counter at Macy’s. Now though, you were both in the bathtub surrounded by a mountain of bubbles, and you were talking about your day, but Flip just couldn’t stop staring at himself in the little mirror you kept there.

“What’s going on up there?” You asked softly, catching his eye in the reflection. He looked sad, and it hurt you to know he was suffering alone.  

“Nothing.” He shook his head, but you just tilted your head back to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“It’s not nothing, you can tell me.” You found his hand that had been resting against your stomach and tangled your fingers with his.

He stayed quiet for a few moments, before pinching his eyes closed and taking a deep breath.

“You remember the man I was telling you about? Felix? He brought me down to his basement today and…” Flip trailed off, tears stinging in his eyes. He didn’t want you to know, he didn’t want you to find out about the things he said – he could barely stand it that he said them at all, that he had to prove that he believed them.

“And what?” You prompted, still watching him through the mirror.

“He held a gun to my face and made me take a lie detector test, to prove I’m not Jewish.” Flip sighed, and your breath caught.

“What did you say?” You gave his hand a squeeze, but Flip pulled it out of your grasp.

“I lied, (Y/N).” He lamented. You turned to face him in the tub with much maneuvering, and you reached out to him, but he pushed himself away from you. “I never thought it would hurt to lie so much, but it fucking did – you should be  _ashamed_  of me.”

“What did you say?” You repeated, knowing that it would eat away at his mind and soul if he didn’t just get it off of his chest. “You can tell me I won’t be mad at you, I promise.” You stressed, wanting him to know that no matter what he said, you knew he didn’t mean it – he couldn’t have if he was this upset over it.

“Don’t, don’t make me repeat it.” His head snapped up, eyes wrought with panic. You immediately scooped him into your arms, pulling him forward to lean his head on your chest, water sloshing all over the bathroom as he begged, “ _Please_  don’t make me repeat it.”

“I’m sorry, I won’t – I won’t ever make you do anything. You know that.” You soothed him, heart hammering, you had never seen Flip like this before, and you wanted nothing more than to help him. If that meant never bringing this up again, then you would do just that.

“I love you.” You whispered into his hair and he cried against you. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I love you  _more_.” Flip whispered back.

The two of you stayed like that, him leaning on you and you carding your fingers through his hair, until the bubbles all dissolved and the water ran cold.

* * *

Days passed without any sign of trouble, which you thought was good. Flip went undercover and came home without a scratch every time, and on the days he wasn’t meeting with the Klan he came home exactly at seven o’clock. There were no more bloody knuckles, no more assaults, and all of the showers and baths that the two of you had taken together were filled with hot kisses and moans, not tears and pain.

Flip had shown you the details of the case – all of them. You memorized names and matched them to faces, you kept an eye out in the news for possible related incidents, and whenever you visited Flip at the station you would secretly study the board of new leads that was kept in the Detective’s division. It felt good to be in the loop, even though you knew you really weren’t supposed to be.

You had a record spinning in the bedroom, just loud enough so that you could faintly hear it in the living room where you were working on putting together a list of things to bring to the neighborhood bake sale when the doorbell rang.

You frowned at the sound, no one was expected to come over today. You quietly tiptoed over to the front door, and clamped your hand over your mouth when you looked through the peephole and saw Felix standing on the other side of the door. He was looking down at his shoes, inspecting a scuff there. How the hell did Felix know where you lived?

You were jolted out of your thoughts when Felix rang the doorbell again. Backing away from the door immediately, you quietly ran up the stairs to yank the record player’s cord out of the wall, Aretha Franklin’s beautiful voice cutting off instantly.

“Just a moment!” You called, loudly going down the stairs, to give the appearance that you hadn’t just been in the room right next to the door.

You checked your appearance, and quickly pulled your star of David into a straight line of butterflies, before tucking it into your shirt, and you opened the door.

“Hello, Mrs. Stallworth?” Felix asked, his posture friendly and calm.

“Yes that’s me, how can I help you?” You asked, slightly suspicious of the stranger at your doorstep.

“I was wondering if Ron was home.” Felix said, gesturing to the car in the driveway.

“No, I’m afraid he’s at work, that’s my car.” You explained with a smile that you hoped didn’t look too forced.

“Your car?” Felix asked, eyebrows shooting up. Shit, you thought, he was probably the type to think women shouldn’t be allowed to leave the house.

“Ron bought it for me last Christmas, so I could do the errands while he was out working.” You lied smoothly, giving a light chuckle, “I know it’s not very usual, but my man loves his house clean and his supper ready! Would you like to come in?” You offered, opening the door wider as an invitation. Your smile never faltered as your mind raced, hyper aware of what the inside of your home looked like, and if anything was too obviously  _different_  that might blow the case.

“I appreciate the offer but that’s alright.” Felix didn’t bother looking inside, he simply smiled and shook his head.

“I can take a message for him, give it right to him as soon as he comes home.” You suggested then, desperately needing to know what he wanted.

“That’d be real nice, could you just say that  _Felix_  came round to see him?” The way he said his own name, as if it were supposed to mean something, as if he were trying to scare your husband, made your stomach churn, but you kept up the façade and let your face morph into pleasant surprise.

“Felix! Oh why didn’t you say so, he talks about you all the time. Are you sure I can’t convince you to come in?” You asked, trying to reinforce Flip’s position with him. It was difficult to pretend to be nice to the man who held your husband at gunpoint, but you did it. You don’t know how, but you did it.

“You’re mighty kind Mrs. Stallworth but I really must be on my way.” Felix grinned, flattered by your words.

“I understand. Thank you for stopping by, please say hello to Connie for me and my husband.” You noticed his surprise when you correctly remembered his wife’s name, much to your own satisfaction.

“I will be sure to. You have a good day Mrs. Stallworth.” Felix said, walking across your lawn to his own car that he had parked on the street.  

“Thank you Felix, you too!” You called, waving a hand to him until his car was far enough down the road that you couldn’t see it anymore.

The second you closed the door, you ran to the bathroom and got sick in the toilet. You rinsed your mouth out and brushed your teeth, before pointing a finger to the mirror and saying with passion: “I am Mrs.  _Zimmerman_.” Over and over again until your guilt subsided.  

You laid across the couch for the rest of the day, the conversation replaying in your head. Did Felix hear Aretha Franklin singing? Did he see your butterfly necklace? Did he know what that meant, or did he just think they were meaningless?

Eventually, at seven o’clock on the dot, the front doorknob jiggled just a bit, and you stupidly sat up in a mild panic, calling out, “Honey, is that you?”

“Who else would it be?” Flip said with an easy smile as he shucked off his jacket and met you halfway, scooping you up and kissing you thrice.

“Felix stopped by the house today.” You said in explanation.

“He did what?” Flip’s smile fell into a hard scowl, and he let you go to stand outside the house, looking at it from the eyes of an outsider, trying to see if there were any assumptions that racist could have made about Flip or you just from the exterior.  

“I recognized his face, from the files.” You said, proud of your voice for not trembling. You had been sitting around in your thoughts all day, replaying the words until none of it felt real. “He rang the doorbell and asked for you, only, the other you.”

“I’ll fucking kill him for coming here, (Y/N) I’ll kill him.” Flip snarled, storming back inside the house and locking the front door with aggression. “Did he do anything to you? What did he say? What did you say?” He knew you would never put the case in jeopardy, but now he needed to commit anything you might have told him to memory, so that in case Felix tried to trip him up, he would know.

“He called me Mrs. Stallworth, and I went along with it. He asked if you were home, he thought the car in the driveway was yours. I told him you like your dinner ready on time so you gave me the car at Christmas so I could go out and do errands while you were at work. He didn’t want to come in, but when I asked if he’d like to leave a message he just said to tell you that he stopped by. I didn’t like the way he said that though – I still don’t.” You recalled every detail from the conversation, but Flip was staring at your neck the entire time.

“Did he see your necklace?” He asked quietly, and you shook your head.

“I pulled it into the butterflies, and then in case he could knew about this type of necklace I tucked it into my shirt to make the shape more unrecognizable.” You replied, watching him sag with relief.

“I’ll kill him.” Flip said again, gathering you up into your arms. “I’m so  _so_  sorry.”

“Can you do me a favor?” You asked nervously.

Flip could tell the slight tone to your voice and pulled back, concern on his face.

“Anything for you.” He nodded.

“Take me to bed?” You asked, taking his hand and settling it right over your mouth, where you sucked two of his huge fingers.

“Honey, don’t feel like you have to – ” Flip’s eyes darkened with desire and you pulled them out of your mouth with a wet  _pop_.

“No, this is for me. I want you to fuck me hard and call my name, and kiss my wedding ring and mark me as  _yours_.”

“Fuck, yeah, I can do that.” Flip flushed with lust, and you grinned.

He picked you up and carried you up the stairs, lightly tossing you onto the mattress making you laugh as the pillows jumped.

You loved how Flip liked to undress you – working from the bottom all the way up to the top. On days where you were still wearing your shoes, he would lovingly remove them and your socks, and kiss up your ankle. He would then pull off your clothes one piece at a time, lavishing the newly revealed skin with attention that made you tingle all over. He would mouth at your thighs until you were a squirming mess, and then he would leave you like that, flustered as he continued to move upwards. He liked to dip his tongue into your navel, suck a mark right at the base of your ribcage, before capturing your breasts in his huge hands and giving them a good kneading.

He loved watching you fall apart, the way your face pinched up in pleasure, your mouth dropping open when he touched you just right. He liked running his hand over the front of your underwear, loved feeling the fabric dampen all for him. He was more possessive this time than normally – he wanted to claim you, to do all the things you asked of him. So, while he let his fingers slide underneath the thin wet scrap of fabric that covered you, he latched himself onto your chest and grinned against your skin as you arched up into his touch.

You moaned as he worked his fingers into you, spreading your legs for him. One of your legs wrapped around his shoulder, pressing your foot into his back to pull him closer as he licked the sweat that beaded on your sternum.

“Flip!” You breathed, biting your lip as he pushed his fingers in and out, rubbing at you. He was going to make you come, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. Hell, he hadn’t even taken off his boots yet!

“Patience honey.” Flip grinned, crooking his fingers at just the right spot to make you jolt with pleasure. He loved how you tensed around him in little flutters, how he could make you feel this good. “We’ve got a  _long_  night ahead of us.” He said before taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking on it, increasing the speed of his fingers, his thumb moving to rub at your clit.

“Shit, oh fuck – ” That was too much, and you shut your eyes tightly and pressed your hips against him as you came, your thighs shaking around him like they were made of jelly.

You didn’t open your eyes, but you felt him shuffle down the bed to lick at the mess on your thighs, you felt him press your legs flat against the bed, and you came down from your high with panting breaths listening to him humming against your skin. After a moment or two, he ripped off the underwear with impatience, and he licked at you cleaning you up. You may have just come, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still hungry for more – you’d happily take whatever he gave you, as long as you eventually got to get dicked down  _hard_.  

“Fuck you’re so sweet,” Flip said, obscenely sucking on your skin. “You’re so sweet and wet for me, you taste amazing.” He shoved his nose against your sensitive clit and stuck his long long tongue deep inside you, the corners of his mouth coming up to a smile as you untwisted one of your hands from the sheets to knot them in his hair.

“Yours!” You moaned, and he agreed with a slap to your thigh.

“That’s fucking right.” He said, the baritone of his voice traveling up your body and you moaned again. “You’re  _mine_. You’re (Y/N) Zimmerman, and I’m going to spell it out for you.”  

He did just that, his tongue drawing the letters inside your, thrusting in and out for punctuation that had you a gasping mess. _Z i m m e r m a n._

“I’m gonna – I’m – ” You couldn’t get a full sentence out before you pulsed into his mouth again, but he hummed in recognition and you shattered around him, a second orgasm shooting through you.

“I think that’s enough teasing, hmm?” He asked, pulling back. His face was wet, but he just wiped his hand through it and licked the taste of you off his fingers.

“I want you naked.” You said, throat hoarse from all your noise.

Flip grinned and leaned back so he was sitting up, looming over you with intensity. He pulled his flannel over his head, and made a whole show of undoing his belt.

“You want this?” Flip asked, as he unzipped his jeans, his painfully hard cock demanding attention. You eyed it and nodded, licking your lips. Normally Flip would suggest you blow him, but tonight was about you, so he left the bed only long enough to take off his boots and slide his jeans and boxers off, letting them sit in a pile on the floor.  

“Don’t use a condom.” You put a hand on his wrist to stop him from reaching over to the night stand.

“Are you sure?” He asked. You were on a contraceptive, but you both still normally liked to be careful. Lately though, you’ve been thinking a lot about wanting a baby, and so you asked Flip to wear one less and less.

“Yeah, yeah I’m sure.” You said, and he grinned, kissing you. “We can talk more about it later,” you whispered, “Just fuck me now.”

And fuck you he did. He pushed into you with no hesitation, the both of you moaning into each other’s mouths. Flip had incredibly good stamina, and once he built up a rhythm it sometimes felt like he could go forever. Your nails dug into his back, and you alternated between kissing you and biting at his neck.

“You feel fucking fantastic.” You gasped as he sped up slightly.

“I love that I get to do this with you.” Flip moaned, tilting his head back and savoring the feeling. “You and only you, forever.”

“I’m never going to stop wanting this.” You laughed, filled with joy.

“Not even after I fuck a baby into you?” Flip grinned back, nipping his teeth at the dimples in your cheeks.

“What makes you think I want just one?” You asked with a devilish smile in between moans.

The two of you laughed and fucked for a long while more, both coming hard, yelling loudly into the dark. You were sure your neighbors were sick of the two of you, but you didn’t give a shit.

Flip collapsed onto your chest after he came, and he waited a few moments before pulling out with a wince. A few moments after that, you both made a trip to the bathroom, cleaning yourselves up and throwing on the bare minimum of clothing so you could sit at the kitchen table and have a midnight snack, too blissed out to care about having a real dinner.

You barely made it back to the bed your whole body felt like taffy, and you swooned when Flip carried you back to bed, the two of you kissing lazily as you fell asleep. He and Ron would get through this case, you were sure of it – they had to.  


	6. Chapter 6

When Flip had told you about the details of the case, the initiation seemed so far away. There had been time to forget about the impending ceremony, and while you kept it in the back of your mind, you didn’t really dwell on it until now. Now, you were laying on Flip’s side of the bed waiting for him to emerge from the closet.

You couldn’t help but throw a hand over your mouth to muffle a laugh when he finally did, dressed in the most un-Flip-like outfit you could imagine: a beige striped shirt, and trousers.

“Excuse me, but who are you and what have you done with my husband?” You asked, propping your head up so you could get a better look at him.

You laughed at his slow motion turn around, giving you a 360 degree view of the most bland outfit he owned.

“Do I look lame?” He asked when he completed his turn, and you nodded immediately.

“Very.” You teased.  

“Good.” He said with a quirk of his smile. It didn’t last very long, his expression falling into a somber frown as he sat down on the side of the bed with his back to you.

You slipped your arms around his chest, resting your cheek on his shoulder as one of his hands moved to caress your bare leg.

“I used to wonder what you would wear to meet with dignitaries.” You said softly, listening to him breathe. “If you had told me six months ago, I never would have even thought of David Duke being one.” You couldn’t deny that the thought made you sick – of Flip going to meet him with open arms, and of Ron having to be the protection detail.

“Promise me you’ll stay at the station.” Flip said, looking at his hand on your leg. More specifically, looking at the wedding band on his finger.

“I don’t like this, Flip.” You whispered, pulling away from him.

“I’m not asking you to like it, I’m asking you to promise.” He turned to face you, and your heart ached at the sadness in his eyes.

You loved this man, more than anything, and you could not in good conscious let him put himself in direct danger like this. You also knew how hard this was on him. It hadn’t gone unnoticed how he was staring off into space more and more with a deep-set scowl or a tearful gaze. It hadn’t gone unaddressed how he felt guilt and shame for lying about who he is. Flip was struggling with his own internal battles that you couldn’t go in and fight for him, but you didn’t have to let Flip do this one alone.

“All these other klansmen are going to have their wives with them – I bet Connie will be there. Won’t it look suspicious if I’m not there?” You tried, but he shook his head.

“If anyone asks, the story is you’re out of town to celebrate your mother’s birthday and couldn’t make it even though you  _really_  wanted to.” He had rehearsed it over and over, Ron had even told Duke as much over the phone. It was settled, you weren’t going.

Flip couldn’t risk you being hurt, he just couldn’t fucking do it. You didn’t sign up to be an undercover detective, you weren’t assigned the case, and he wanted to keep you as far away from those people as possible.

“I don’t like this.” You repeated, growing angry.

“I’m sorry but that’s what’s happening.” Flip said, getting off the bed and moving to the bathroom.

You followed him, not caring that you were clad in only Flip’s too-big flannel, too angry to be bothered about the way the cold doorframe hit your skin as you leaned against it.

“Well what the fuck am I supposed to do? Sit around while you’re getting shot at? Twiddle my fucking thumbs hoping you don’t get caught and killed?” You demanded, not appreciating being excluded from this whole ordeal.

“Yes!” He said, almost loud enough to be a shout, but not in anger – in desperation. “Yes. I need you to sit around and twiddle your thumbs and do whatever the fuck you need to, to stay surrounded by cops – our friends who will  _protect you_  – so that I know that you. Are.  _Safe_. I can get shot a hundred times and be fine but it would kill me – it would  _kill_ me, (Y/N), if you got hurt again.” He dropped to the floor in front of you, knees resting on the cold tile.

He pressed his face into your stomach and you sighed, cradling his head and running your fingers through his hair.

“I promise.” You said unhappily as you sank to the floor to better embrace him. “I meant what I said though, if one of them harms a single hair on your head – ”

“No one will hurt me. As far as they all know, I’m one of them.” Flip cut you off, peppering your neck and face with meaningful kisses. “Besides, I’ll have Ron.” He said, as if that didn’t make you more anxious.

“Just come back to me, okay? Please.” You asked, taking his left hand in your own and squeezing it tight.

Flip nodded, and the two of you stood up from the floor. You didn’t say anything to him as you went to the closet to put clothes of your own on, making sure to wear something cozy because the station was always freezing.

* * *

You drove to the station in your own car so that if anyone – Felix or otherwise – came looking around the house, it wouldn’t be a dead giveaway that Flip was lying about you being out of town. You packed up food to bring to the station, and drove over in silence.

You would probably spend your day with Jimmy. He knew about the case, so Flip had told him you were coming in and asked him to keep you company. He greeted you at the door as did several other officers, and led you to one of the back offices where he had apparently set up a projector.

“I got some snacks, but I bet they’re nothing compared to your baking.” He said, gesturing to the popcorn and movie candy that he had put into bowls.

You grinned and sat down on the cushioned couch, making yourself comfortable since you were going to be there for a while. “Thanks Jimmy, you didn’t have to go through all this trouble though.”

“It’s no trouble at all.” Jimmy beamed, settling down on the floor near the coffee table of snacks. “Believe me, I wish I could be there helping too. But this is Ron and Flip’s case, not ours.”

“I know, I just hate feeling useless.” You sighed, kicking your shoes off and watching as the projector flickered to life.

You turned your head and saw Sargent Trapp fiddling with the projector, setting the film reels up with an understanding smile.

“Well I know I speak for everyone when I say you brighten up the station every time you set foot in it.” He said earnestly, and Jimmy made a happy noise of agreement that had you not so angry anymore. It sucked being trapped, but at least you had Jimmy and Trapp with you to make the day a little more bearable.

“What’s first on the watch list?” You asked, mostly as a sign that you were going to be a good sport about the whole thing.

You had just finished Mary Poppins when all the police radios crackled to life, and the three of you immediately turned your attention to the walkie talkie sitting on Trapp’s desk, “Attention all units! Be on the lookout for a brown truck, white pride bumper sticker, license plate number…”

“Is that Ron?” You asked, jumping up from your spot on the couch.

“Holy shit.” Jimmy said, running down the hall to the main lobby.

You and Trapp looked at each other for a minute before running too, the lobby scrambling, officers running to their cars, peeling away from the parking lot with their sirens blasting. The phones were ringing off the hook and the room was a cacophony of voices trying to write down information.

“Jimmy is that Ron? Is he hurt?” You desperately asked as he was responding to Ron’s message. “Does he have Flip with him?” Your hands started to shake so you braced yourself on the nearest desk.

Before he could answer, Chief Bridges stormed out of his own office, shouting orders to try and calm the hectic lobby.

“Someone call the fucking fire department! We’ve got reports of a car in flames.” He said, a cup of coffee in his hands, and Jimmy set about doing just that.

“What kind of car?” You were almost too afraid to ask.

“A red beetle, it was bombed.” The chief sighed, rubbing his temples. You knew it was awful, but you sighed with relief that it hadn’t been Flip’s car.

“Has anyone heard from Flip?” Jimmy shouted.

“He just called in, he’s going to help Ron catch the bomber.” Trapp stepped forward, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“What can I do?” You asked, tears in your eyes. “I have to help, maybe I can help – ”

“You have to stay here, everything is going to be alright, but you have to stay here.” Trapp said with a pained expression as you groaned in frustration.  

“I fucking hate this!” You shouted, before returning to Trapp’s office, slamming the door behind you.

Once you were alone, you felt your breath quicken and you quickly sat down so you wouldn’t pass out from being so overwhelmed. This was so fucking stupid, you thought. How could they have let Ron and Flip go without any help?

“A car bomb.” You whispered to yourself as the credits of the movie that was still rolling came to an end. They had bombs now, actual explosives. And they were using them! How could anyone think these people were upstanding citizens when they were out literally detonating bombs?

Jimmy knocked on the door, but you didn’t answer. You just sat on the couch, wrapped your arms around your knees, and let the tears fall down your cheeks.

Hours passed.

You had yanked the power cord of the projector from the wall to stop the noise of blank film running through the reels, and sat in silence for what seemed like ages. Various officers tried to offer you their company, but you just ignored everyone who approached the still locked door.

When Flip came back to you – and he would, damn it, he had to come back – you were going to tell him how much you loved him, and that you were sorry for yelling at him in the bathroom.

* * *

You went through the entire bowl of popcorn, anxiously eating. Eventually, someone pounded on the door. This wasn’t a simple knock, this was an insistent and urgent pounding.

Your heart in your throat, you scrambled to get to the door, eyes wide and frantic hoping that someone, anyone, would have an update for you, when before you could even blink you were scooped up by a pair of sturdy, familiar arms that had you crying hard with relief.

“Flip! Ron! Are you okay? What happened, tell me everything.” You asked, hiccupping with a huge smile on your face, looking between your husband and your new friend.

“We did it!” Ron said with a proud grin, and when Flip put you down for a minute, you threw yourself into Ron’s arms to give him a tight hug. You couldn’t even express how happy you were that they both made it out of that shitshow alive.  

“Flip!” You exclaimed as your husband pulled you to him, pressing you against his body.

He leaned down to meet your lips and kissed your for as long as you both possibly could go without air, and then he kissed you again (and again).

“Holy shit I’m going to fuck you right on this table I’m so excited.” Flip ran his thumbs over your cheeks, cradling your face.

“Heyheyhey, calm down big boy.” Chief Bridges walked in right then, but Flip paid him no mind.

“We put them in fucking prison baby, these guys won’t be seeing past barbed wire for a long time.” He grinned, and you laughed with joy.

“I’m so proud of you – hey!” He picked you up once more, carrying you with ease through the door.

“Gentleman, my wife and I will see you tomorrow,” He said with a devilish smirk, “We’ve got some celebrating to do.”

You tried not to die of embarrassment as the officers whistled and cheered as you left the room. You didn’t care too much though, once Flip started feeling you up when you got to his car.

The two of you stumbled up the stairs to your bedroom, barely able to stay separated. You both felt like you were frenzied, desperate for one another’s touch. Clothes were scattered all over the house – shoes in the living room, jackets on the stairs, shirts and pants in the hallway; a trail of clothing leading directly to your bed.

Neither of you spoke beyond the occasional  _I love you,_ the only sounds that of moans and grunts as Flip fucked you hard and fast. There would be time for gentleness later, for soft whispers and sweet kisses, but now was the time for bruising grips and hard thrusts, rocking the mattress and slamming the headboard against the wall. You both were too hopped up on adrenaline to care, the only thing that mattered was that you were both safe – and that you  _won._

It didn’t take very long for you to orgasm, but Flip wasn’t finished with you; not after just one. His hands were everywhere, in your hair one moment, then on your ass the next. He squeezed his fingers around your throat as he licked into your mouth, and then in an instant he was pinching your nipple as he sucked a mark onto your chest.

You gave as good as you got, even though you felt like you were floating. You moved your hips to his rhythm, pressing his shoulders down to be flush with you. You clawed at his back and pulled his hair and lavished his throat with marks that had him moaning with his eyes screwed shut. You clenched around his huge cock, and when he came it was with a shout.

He hadn’t been wearing a condom, and you swore you could  _feel_ his come inside of you. You would bring up children in the morning, if you could remember. Flip pulled out and grabbed his undershirt than you had flung to the other side of the room, sliding under the covers to clean you up.

You kissed him, crashing from the passion and adrenaline, and snuggled up against his broad chest. He pulled you so that you were almost completely on top of him, and he sighed happily, wrapping his arms around you and tracing soft patterns onto your back.

You kissed whatever bit of skin your lips were currently resting on, and closed your eyes, falling asleep to the most comforting sound in the world – his heartbeat.

“(Y/N)?” You stirred as something gently rubbed your back, waking you up.

You cracked an eye open, smacking your lips to get rid of the taste of sleep as you tried not to immediately fall back asleep.

“Right here honey.” You said with a yawn. Flip sometimes woke you up in the middle of the night if he was having trouble sleeping. Thankfully he never really wanted anything from you aside from your company, so you were happy enough to oblige, even if he did interrupt a good dream.

“I’m sorry.” Flip said, so softly that you almost didn’t hear it.

“What for?” You asked, opening your eyes all the way and reaching across your husband to look at the clock on the nightstand. “Flip it’s two o’clock in the morning.”

“I’m sorry I never celebrate with you.” Flip said, ignoring your comment about the time. Even in the dark, you could tell he wasn’t looking at you; the light from the moon that shone through your window illuminated his glassy eyes.

“Oh honey.” You sighed plaintively, reversing your positions so that he could rest his cheek on your chest.

“I know I’m always working and can never be home for the holidays, and I know how much they mean to you. I want to do better from now on.” He said, his words slow and deliberate.

“You don’t have to apologize for anything. You live your life the way you want to.” You tried reassuring him, but he shook his head.

“Well I want to live it differently, now that this is all over. But…” He sighed and took in a pained breath, before turning his gaze up to look you in the eyes. “I don’t know a lot, and I was hoping you could teach me.”

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” You said with a warm smile.

“I want to know everything, so I can be more true to myself.” He sounded so determined, your heart could have burst from love for this man. “I want to help teach our kids their histories and traditions.”

“I love you so much.” You wiped away a happy tear that had rolled into your hairline, closing your eyes again.

“I love you more.” Flip said. A few moments later, just when you were on the cusp of sleep, he whispered, “Oh, and (Y/N)?”

“Mmhmm?” You asked, not entirely awake.  

“Thank you, for trusting me.” He pressed a kiss to your sternum.

“There’s not a man alive that I trust more than you.” You declared, holding him tight.

Flip closed his eyes and for the first time in weeks, didn’t dread what tomorrow might bring.

* * *

At first, you didn’t know what was happening. One moment you were asleep, and the next you were blinking your eyes against the white light of morning, your husband nestled between your legs as he slowly and steadily licked into you.

“Good morning honey.” He lifted his head for a minute, beaming up at you with the goofiest look on his face, before returning to his ministrations with his tongue.

“Mmm, yeah it is.” You grinned, your hand making its way to its rightful place in his hair.

You let yourself enjoy the pleasure you were given, your toes curling around Flip’s shoulder blades.

“Come out with me tonight.” Flip said, muffled against your skin.

“Where are we going?” You asked, laughing at the absurdity of the situation – only Flip would try and have a conversation while eating you out.

“A small bar, I’ve never been before but the whole team is going to be there.” He did something magical with his teeth just then, and your body jolted with pleasure. Flip hummed a chuckle into you, and you licked your lips.

“The whole team huh?” Your voice turned into something closer to a moan as he added a couple fingers into the mix.

“Yeah, we’re going to celebrate closing the case with a couple of drinks.” Flip said more eloquently now that he wasn’t fucking you with his tongue, his fingers doing the work.

“Drinks.” You nodded, not really paying attention to anything other than how  _good_  Flip felt.

“Yeah, lemme drink you up.” He grinned, and you rolled your eyes at your husband’s dirty talk before having them roll back into your head as he added a third finger.

Flip took his time with you, lavishing kisses over every single bruise he left on your soft skin. He lapped his tongue over all the red marks and scratches, hands caressing your thighs, your ass, your breasts. He whispered endearments into your ear, told you how much he loved you over and over again. Last night you two fucked, but now you were making love, and it was just as good.

Flip couldn’t help but stare down at you, how could he have found such a perfect woman to call his wife?

Afterwards, Flip washed your hair in the shower and brought you breakfast in bed. You smiled at the irregularly shaped pancakes and the overcooked eggs. They were perfect, because Flip made them, and he was yours, and you were his, and he loved you enough to make you food even though he’s not very good at it.

You made sure to eat every bite of it before setting the plates aside and climbing into Flip’s lap.

“Didn’t you once say something about fucking a baby into me?” You whispered in his ear.

You should have expected being tackled, but that didn’t stop the surprised laughter bubbling from your throat as you and Flip started round two of many.

* * *

You and Flip were sitting across from Jimmy in the small bar later that evening. Flip had informed you of the guy’s plan to finally throw Landers in jail for all the awful shit he’s pulled over the years, and you couldn’t  _wait_ to see it.

The entire bar was now watching the next booth over, where Landers had made himself a little too comfortable next to Patrice and Ron, and was shouting in their faces the same racist bullshit he had always whispered under his breath.

“You got that?” He ended his little speech with, making Ron nod.

“Oh I got it.” He said, before turning to his girlfriend. “Did you get that Patrice?”

“I got it.” She confirmed with a smile.

“How about you, Jimmy?” Ron asked, turning around and addressing your booth.

“I got it loud and clear.” Jimmy said with a grin.

“(Y/N)? Flip?” Ron asked, and the two of you nodded.

“Every word of it.” Flip said, and you could have laughed at Landers’ face when Chief Bridges and Sargent Trapp came around the corner.

“Did you get that Chief?” Ron asked Bridges, who clamped a firm hand on Landers’ shoulder, turning him around to handcuff him.

“Yeah I got it.” He said, and by now the entire bar had come out of their state of shock.

“What the fuck is going on here – ” Landers spit, as the crowd at the bar cheered Trapp on for pushing him out of the establishment.

“Officer Landers you are under arrest…” Trapp began to list off the charges – sexual harassment, disorderly conduct, and misuse of his position being just a couple of them.

You, Flip, and Jimmy all got up and hopped over to Ron and Patrice’s booth, where you greeted them both with a warm smile. You and Flip hadn’t actually officially met Patrice, only hearing about her through Ron or the news.

“Hi, this is my wife, (Y/N).” Flip gestured to you, and you happily shook her hand. “And I’m Philip.” He introduced himself, shaking her hand before looking at you.

You simply looked at one another, and as the bar continued to celebrate and drink, you only had eyes for your husband. You hadn’t heard that name in a long time – in about as long as you had been married to him.

“Ron’s told me so much about you two,” Patrice said, “I know it’s just a job but I think it’s really brave what you did, and I want to thank you.”

“It was never just a job.” Flip – no,  _Philip_ , replied, wrapping his arm around you and thinking that there was no place that he’d rather be, than by your side.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for making it this far and for reading, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it!!!   
> As always, if you'd like to find me on the web, my tumblr is the same username as it is here :) xx


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